


Seven Days for Sparrow

by voleuse



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-12
Updated: 2004-05-12
Packaged: 2017-10-06 15:52:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a process, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven Days for Sparrow

**Author's Note:**

> Written after the first movie.

** _i. Monday's child is fair of face_ **

William is a bonny lad, Jack muses, but he won't be a real pirate for years. Pirates shouldn't be pretty, for one thing, and Will's altogether too jumpy, besides. Every crack of lightning, every ominous wave, and Will bolts to his side like a fawn. It's silly, really, the way the boy clings to him, all grasping hands and twisting ankles, like a monkey without its tail.

Jack wonders why Will so earnestly pleaded to join the crew of the Pearl. ("Take me, Jack," Will had purred, and Jack had shrugged and had him brought on board.) He didn't seem to be all that piratical, what with the smooth skin, the fine hair, the fine, strong bones of his wrists.

Yes. Jack nods. Will Turner is altogether too pretty.

** _ii. Tuesday's child is full of grace_ **

It's the two of them in the mess again, Will chewing an apple methodically, and Jack sawing through a loaf of semi-stale bread. (Funny how often that happens, Jack thinks, just the two of them in the mess.)

The sea is restless tonight. The ship rolls, and Will's legs bow, and he sways in Jack's direction.

The second time, he stumbles a bit, but Jack opts to stay silent.

At the third wave, however, Will ends up pressed against Jack, Jack pressed against the table, and Jack has to say something.

"Careful, love," he growls, smiling. "A man might misunderstand your intentions."

Will's mouth drops open prettily, but Jack retrieves his slice of bread and wanders out of the mess, humming.

** _iii. Wednesday's child is full of woe_ **

Will appears in Jack's cabin one afternoon, while Jack lies peacefully in his bunk. Luckily, Jack isn't feeling especially jumpy, so he doesn't skewer the lad outright with his nearby sword. Will _did_ make it, after all, and while fond of irony, Jack's never found it to be a necessity.

"I miss home, Jack," Will pouts, perching next to Jack's feet.

Jack rolls his eyes. "If I had known you'd be so needy, William, I'd have left you on the shores of Tortuga."

Hurt flickers over Will's face. "Truly?"

He _is_ a pretty one, Jack observes yet again, and feels a little relieved that Will didn't go to Anamaria with his woes. She'd likely toss him overboard. "Not really," he reassures Will. "A little aggression, however, would do you some good, William."

"Aggression?"

"Yes!" Jack sits up, leans forward to emphasize his point. "Take what you want!"

"What I want," Will murmurs.

"Like a pirate, m'boy." Jack lies back down, rolls over. "Now get out."

He's asleep before Will walks out the door.

** _iv. Thursday's child has far to go_ **

Jack thinks it a good time of year to sail east, wreak havoc somewhere Norrington can't follow, what with his devotion to responsibility and government, and other such things. Maybe Singapore, he chuckles to himself. 'Twould be an adventure, surely, and it might make a real man of young William, besides.

The lad has taken to getting flushed at odd times, blood rushing to his face, and other parts of him that Jack hadn't perused, except by accidental glances of hip and hand.

Will hasn't yet become sturdy on his feet; he's pinned Jack against walls and chairs and tables at the slightest rock of the ship. When the ship barely feels in motion, in fact.

He's starting to think the lad will never make a proper pirate out of himself, if he can't take himself in hand during opportune times. There aren't women out at sea, aside from Anamaria, and again, she'd toss young Will overboard first. She has standards, after all, and none of them involve "pretty."

Singapore's a likely place, Jack thinks. Multitudes of beautiful women, or people pretending to be beautiful, at least. Or pretending to be women, even, if that's what young Will would prefer.

Jack laughs.

Probably not.

** _v. Friday's child is loving and giving_ **

There's little wind right now, and the nights are sticky and hot. Jack sheds his clothes before slipping beneath the sheet of his bed, and dozes deeply.

He wakes suddenly in the middle of the night (the moon streams into his room like Jove), sure that he's heard something. He lies still, eyes on the ceiling, but senses nothing.

The cotton of the sheet drags against his body, and his right hand slips down to his cock, half-erect from his slumber. He strokes, and strokes again, and kicks the sheet off. He's in no hurry, but his other hand clenches as he pumps into his fist, thinking of Bess, and Simmons, those twins in Singapore, and Margarita's talented lips. He thinks of the long, elegant flex of Anamaria's spine, and Will's mouth dropping into a perfect "O."

He grunts, comes messily over his hand, and then he hears something again.

He turns his head, and Will's leaning against the closed door of his cabin.

"Mr. Turner."

"J-jack." Will's hands are braced on the door, and Jack's gaze drops to below Will's belt.

Interesting.

"Sorry," Will stammers, and flees.

Jack smiles, his hand still idly wrapped around his cock.

Very interesting.

** _vi. Saturday's child works hard for a living_ **

Will's a bit skittish in the next few days, and every time Jack appears around the corner, the lad is scrubbing or tying or climbing or whittling.

He may not make a pirate, but Jack thinks he'll make an excellent sailor one day. Maybe even soon, if this keeps up.

Jack wants to talk to the lad about the future, or tomorrow, as it were, but young William keeps scampering off like a rabbit.

Jack doesn't mind, really. The Pearl isn't _that_ big, and he can afford to be patient.

** _vii. And the child that is born on the sabbath day_ **

It's three weeks before young Turner appears in the captain's quarters again.

Jack's studying a map, a series of them, and he doesn't look up as Will enters. "We'll be in Singapore soon, lad," he announces in response to Will's greeting.

Will shuts the door behind him, but instead of speaking, he stands, wooden.

Jack stares at him for a full minute before breaking the silence. "Was there something you wanted to say?"

Will looks at his feet, mumbles something.

"What was that, lad?" Jack draws closer, a foot's distance or so. "You'll have to speak up."

Will meets his eyes, then, and his expression is nervous. "I want you, Jack."

"Really." Jack swoops in then, and their teeth clash for a moment, and he darts his tongue into Will's mouth before pulling back.

Will looks dazed.

"Why didn't you say something before?"


End file.
